


On Harness, High Above The Ground

by GalaxyAqua



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: F/F, Getting Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 11:21:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13523175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyAqua/pseuds/GalaxyAqua
Summary: She was a tidal wave and Pekoyama was being swept away.





	On Harness, High Above The Ground

**Author's Note:**

> remember that one time when peko and ibuki canonically held hands

To Pekoyama, she is a natural disaster.

She sweeps past causing wreckage wherever she goes, and with a twirl and a skip, as quick as she’d appeared, she’ll stop. She’ll turn and smile as though she hadn’t just turned Pekoyama’s world upside down and Pekoyama will let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

Somehow, Mioda leaves her clueless, frantic and gasping for air, and hits her when she least expects it – even though she’s been trained to expect anything.

Pekoyama can predict the movements of assassins, soldiers, and any other form of potential attacker on the wide spectrum of anything under the label of ‘yakuza’, but she cannot predict Ibuki Mioda.

What puzzles Pekoyama even more is that Mioda does not move quietly; her words come in swift avalanches, dangerous and fast and unpredictable, so how is that Pekoyama simply cannot manage to step out of the way in time – how can she be so blind to miss the moment when suddenly Mioda’s grabbing Pekoyama’s hand and they’re sprinting across the island beaches, then suddenly they’re not and she’s gone leaving Pekoyama strangely missing the warmth?

She is equally an impossible thrill and an impossible terror, and Pekoyama simple cannot comprehend it. Maybe she’s in danger, she thinks. In danger of being swept away by a feeling she cannot name, that rises when Mioda dances into her vision and fades when Mioda leaves.

 

* * *

 

She keeps these thoughts in mind, piecing her knowledge of Mioda together when Mioda herself suddenly slams into Pekoyama’s side and wraps her arms around her.

“Peko-chaaan!” She greets, all spikes and boisterous laughter. “Wanna hang out with Ibuki today?”

It’s how Mioda always frames her invitations lately, and Pekoyama has never turned her down, too stiff in her embrace to do anything other than nod. Mioda will let her go then, and as per routine, take hold of her hand. She seems to be fond of Pekoyama’s hands.

“Ibuki wants to go to the diner! Is that okay with you?”

Pekoyama nods again, and the excited whoop of response could be loud enough to be a morning alarm, she thinks.

 _Does that mean you want to wake up to it everyday,_ asks her conscience.

 _No_ , she lies, even though her conscience knows what she’s thinking anyway.

Mioda swings into the diner with Pekoyama in tow, and the swordswoman is surprised to see a booth already set up with food and drinks.

“Well well well,” Mioda says, “Looks like it’s our lucky day! Just in time for lunch, I’ll say!”

“Did you make this?” Pekoyama asks.

Mioda sticks out her tongue. “Who do you think Ibuki is? A competent human being that can cook for herself?” But then she points to one of the plates, “Ibuki did barbeque that though! She’s pretty hefty with a grill, she’ll have you know!”

Pekoyama assesses it and quietly wonders if what she’s pointing at is edible. “I see.”

“C’mon, let’s eat, Peko-chan,” Mioda drags her into the booth, before crawling under the table to sit on the other side. “You didn’t have much at breakfast so eat as much as you like!”

Pekoyama blinks in surprise.

“What? You think Ibuki wouldn’t notice? You’re almost as bad as Nagito-chan,” she sighs dramatically. “A glass of water isn’t breakfast, Peko-chan.”

“I wasn’t hungry.”

“Hmm. Okay, you get one free pass because you’re cute!” Mioda perks up again. “But just so you know, it’s much better to eat up when you’ve got food in front of you! Especially if it’s free!” She winks. “Or made with love, because that’s the best seasoning!” Her face contorts after that statement. “Oh god, that’s so cheesy I’m gonna explode!”

Pekoyama picks up a lettuce leaf. Mioda frowns.

“Peko-chan.”

“I heard that rabbits like to eat these.” Pekoyama says solemnly. “But rabbits don’t like me at all.”

“Huh? Rabbits?”

“... never mind. I was just thinking out loud.” Pekoyama punctuates this by using a fork to tentatively stab one of Mioda’s creations and plop it into her mouth. She doesn’t know why she does this, as the food is clearly dubious, but it’s touching her tongue now and it tastes just as it looks – a burnt unidentifiable thing. It reminds her a little of eating bark, actually.

Her pride is what forbids her from choking on it, but against her better judgement, she takes another one.

Mioda watches her in awe. After she reaches for yet another one, the light musician suddenly shouts, “Stop! Stop, stop, stop! I can’t take this anymore! Why do you put yourself through this pain, Peko-chan?! Isn’t the spice about to burn your mouth off?! Isn’t it like eating a handful of lava?!”

“This was supposed to be spicy?”

Mioda looks as though she’s about to cry. “P-Peko-chan… you’re… truly amazing…!”

Pekoyama hides her surely awful smile behind the lettuce leaf she picked up earlier, nibbling on the edges and looking out the diner window to substitute for a proper response. She finishes quickly, and makes the mistake of looking back, because Mioda’s magenta gaze is burning.

As Mioda stares at her, Pekoyama feels the heat of wildfire burn up her face and neck. She can’t hold the stare for long, and directs her gaze to her hands to inquire about it.  

“What is that expression for....?”

“Ooh, expression? What expression? Where’s the expression – well, Ibuki just doesn’t know!” Mioda launches into activity all at once, and the wildfire is spreading as she grins dazzlingly, “Maybe it’s because it looked like Peko-chan wanted to kiss Ibuki just now! As compliments to the chef and all!” She makes a face that resembles a fish, puckering up to smack her lips loudly on each palm and reaching up to slap both kissed palms onto Pekoyama’s flushed cheeks. “There you go! A fresh kiss from Ibuki, straight-but-not-so-straight out of the oven! Woohoo! How’s that for a summer time special!?”

Pekoyama opens her mouth to reply, to voice any sort of opinion that will calm her racing heart, but Mioda – true to her personality, rolls onward like a tsunami, uncaring for the damage she’s done.

“Not to worry, if you’re worried about germs, Ibuki washed her hands, she’s not a total caveman, come on, who do you think Ibuki is, someone who doesn’t wash her hands? Psh, no waaaay.” Mioda whistles, eyes darting out the window Pekoyama was looking out of earlier. “Hey hey, speaking of people who don’t wash their hands, is that Kazuichi-chan out there? It is! Who wants to go say hi to Kazuichi-chan with Ibuki?! Ohoho, who’s going to be the lucky one,” She crosses her arms, shuts her eyes and nods, ever dramatic. “Mm, yes, that’s right, good idea. Good choice, I agree.”

Then her eyes snap open, and her fingers fly forward in a pointing stance. “Ding ding ding! It’s Peko-chan! Congratulations Peko-chan, you have been chosen to accompany Ibuki to find out what Kazuichi-chan is up to!”

Pekoyama can’t even get a word in before Mioda takes hold of her hand and starts pulling, and she can’t keep the awkward grimace that is quite possibly another attempt to smile off her face when they take off running.

“Don’t waste the food –” she murmurs, jolted by the surprisingly fast pace Mioda has set.

The light musician grins back at her, almost running into a coconut tree because of it. “Ibuki will personally deliver it to your cottage later, don’t you worry, my darling!”

Pekoyama feels the wildfire raging in her chest, but surely it’s the sprint that’s causing her heartbeat to rise so quickly. There’s nothing else it could be.

 

* * *

 

“Are you in cahoots with Mioda?”

Pekoyama jumps, and abruptly scolds herself for it. She must be growing soft – perhaps tomorrow she will punish herself by practicing through the morning so her classmates cannot sneak up on her like this.

To be snuck up on by Souda of all people, she truly must be losing her touch.

“I do not understand the question, Souda.” She answers.

She realizes at this moment that while speaking with him isn’t unpleasant, the surprise conversation doesn’t give her the same rush of feeling as surprise conversation with Mioda. He’s less of a sudden moment of chaos, and more of … just Souda, sneaking up behind her on the beach. It loses a little impact. She doesn’t ponder on the thought.

“Ya just seem pretty friendly with each other,” Souda shrugs. “And yer always holding hands and stuff, but I dunno.” He leans against the coconut tree she’s been sitting under, counting on his fingers, “Oh, and I guess you’re always looking at her like she’s the greatest thing since sliced bread, and the only time I’ve seen you smile was that one time you were running with her the other day, so that really got me thinking. But ya don’t have to tell me if you’re shy, I get it, just know that I’d be behind ya if you do happen to be together, is all.”

“To you,” Pekoyama begins, unsure of why she’s discussing this with Souda, but reasons to herself that he was the one who started it. “Do Mioda and I appear to be friends?”

He blinks. “Uh, yeah? I was askin’ if you were girlfriends so no duh you look like you’re friends. Why? Did it not occur to you? Is the cold, unfeeling Pekoyama finally feeling a little something-something?”

She disregards his choice of descriptive words in favor of, “Do you mean that we appear to be girls that are friends or do you mean it as in romantically involved?”

“Okay, wait,” Souda says, putting his hands behind his head as he looks down at her. “What I’m gettin’ from this, is that you’re a little confused. What I mean to ask is not ‘hey man, how’re you and your gal pal doin’?’, but ‘hey man, are you like, dating Ibuki Mioda because that’s fuckin’ adorable, and I know it’s none of my business but I have to know’. Are we on the same boat now?”

“We are not on a boat.” Pekoyama points out. “But thank you for clarifying. Then to answer your initial question, Mioda and I are not… ‘in cahoots’, as you say.”

“Oh okay.” Souda says. “But you like her, right?”

She frowns. “I suppose I do.”

“Cool.” Souda replies, nodding like a bobblehead doll. “You should tell her.”

Pekoyama is strangely glad she never listens to Souda’s advice, because it gives her an excuse to ignore this one, too. But he and Mioda are good friends, as she recalls, so there must be a reason why he’s talking to her with such confidence.

“I’ll think about it.” She decides.

“Cool.” Souda says again, still nodding. “Could you stop with the murder face now?”

Embarrassed, Pekoyama also nods, before stepping away. She can’t help it that her face is scary. 

 

* * *

 

“Peko-chan! Peko-chan! You won’t believe what Ibuki is about to tell you!”

“Is that so?” Pekoyama lets her bamboo sword fall into the sand as Mioda races to jump into her arms. She is fortunate to be able to predict such a circumstance, she thinks, as Mioda squeals happily upon being lifted into the air, and is beaming when she hits the ground again.

Pekoyama believes that if Mioda were not so light, she could have caused an earthquake with sheer enthusiasm.

“Anyway! Peko-chan’s super badass super strong physique aside, Ibuki came to tell Peko-chan that she is beautiful and Ibuki has a gift for her!” She pumps her fist into the air.

Unable to think of a reaction to the words in time, Pekoyama is left stunned as Mioda shoves a stuffed rabbit towards her and looks at her expectantly.

“So?” Mioda asks. “You gonna take it or what?”

Pekoyama feels herself floating, metaphorically, when she takes hold of the stuffed rabbit. It’s fluffier than she imagined, and its little face is the cutest thing she’s ever held – bar, perhaps, the girl standing in front of her. So she thinks Mioda is cute. Maybe that’s okay.

“I… thank you,” She says, gripping the rabbit tight. “What is the occasion? Unfortunately, I do not have a gift prepared for you.”

Mioda rocks to and fro on the balls of her feet. “Ibuki doesn’t need anything in return, she just wanted Peko-chan to have a good and special day today! And when she found the rabbit, she thought, ‘I have to get this to Peko-chan no matter what’! So here Ibuki is!”

“Here you are…” Pekoyama can’t hold her smile back, and it breaks out in a toothy mess as she bobs the rabbit a little, watching its floppy ears go up and down.

Mioda grins. “You are so pretty when you smile, you know that?”

“Ah… no, nobody has ever said that to me before.”

“What?!” She gasps, clutching her chest like she’d been shot. “Peko-chan, I’m wounded on your behalf!”

“It is quite alright.”

“No, it isn’t! It isn’t okay at all!” Mioda cries, “Okay, Ibuki’s decided she will tell you as often as she can remember then! Is that okay?”

The swordswoman blinks at her. “That’s okay. But you don’t need to do that.”

“Sure I do.” Mioda blinks back, and Pekoyama is suddenly reminded of her stare from the diner. Her eyes reflect the sunlight well. Pekoyama finds she doesn't want to look away this time.

“Mioda, you’re staring.” She points out.

"Peko-chan, you're staring too!"

Both of them giggle, and perhaps upon reflection, the giddiness that floods through Pekoyama's veins whenever Mioda laughs does make her seem a little helpless. If this feeling is like all the books say, then she might be a little in love with her, she realizes. Maybe she's been in love with her for a while now. She laughs a little harder, a little more breathlessly, and blames it on the fact that Mioda has a contagious laugh.

“Hey, not to be super random or anything, but can Ibuki ask you to do something?”

“What is it?”

“Take your glasses off, please?”

Pekoyama does, and is still able to make out most of Mioda in passable detail due to her standing out against the landscape. She suddenly yearns to see more again, but she allows Mioda a chance to do as she pleases – because she never fails to surprise Pekoyama, and Pekoyama is growing undeniably fond of her surprises.

“Uh oh,” Mioda says, “Ibuki did this backwards, but she’s gonna ask for permission now, so please don’t freak out! Ibuki doesn’t want Peko-chan to drop her glasses in the sand, because then they’d be sandglasses, but they’d be really bad sandglasses that can’t even measure time for you.”

Pekoyama feels her lips quirking upwards despite herself, “Alright. What are you asking for permission for?”

“Um! Well! Can Ibuki kiss you? For real?”

There’s a pause, and Pekoyama knows that if she doesn’t seize this opportunity at this very moment, she’ll miss it – Mioda is like a whirlwind sweeping past, and Pekoyama must catch her before she’s gone.

So she voices, with utmost clarity, “Yes.”

She feels Mioda grab hold of her face with both hands and smash their lips together. It is not an elegant kiss, but it’s the only kiss Pekoyama wants from here on out.

Mioda breathes against her parted lips as she breaks away, and murmurs, “Peko-chan, you’re perfect, and I love you so much,” before plunging in again, kissing her with the same amount of passion as the first.

All her senses are overwhelmed with natural disaster – she tastes the tremor of an earthquake, feels the wildfire creeping back up her cheeks, hears the avalanche as Mioda murmurs strings of adoration against her mouth, smells the salt of the sea in the air, sees nothing but the blur of Ibuki Mioda in front of her – and a single thought crosses her mind.

If she wasn’t in danger before, she’s definitely in danger now.


End file.
